The Taste of Vengeance
by passon
Summary: Uliq and Nomi short story. The story of a man running from his past and realizing that it caught up with him.


**The Taste of Vengeance**

_To be united by hatred is a fragile alliance, at best… _Darth Traya; Fifth _Darth_, 3995 bby

Nar Shaddaa, home or base to a considerable fraction of the galaxy's more illicit individuals. The moon was sometimes referred to as "Little Coruscant" and certain synonymous characteristics existed between the gaping maw of Nal Hutta and the Republics capital. Both celestial bodies were completely enveloped in duracreet. A blade of grass that was not found in one of the cultivated parks was so rare that a person who found it would not recognize what it was except after close observation. If one looked aside from the fact that both Coruscant and Nar Shaddaa were one gigantic city, even a casual observer would spot the extreme differences. While Coruscant had its underworld and crime syndicates, they were still in the minority and drowned under the weight of planetary security forces and the respectable citizen. Nar Shaddaa's crime syndicates and the native thug gangs formed the majority of the moon's population however—not surprisingly since the moon orbited the breeding ground of the Hutts: the infested and bog ridden planet of Nal Hutta.

Nar Shaddaa had another more fitting title, "The Smugglers' Moon", and it is upon this endearing recommendation that many a less than respectable individual has visited the crime infested moon. Many of these poor souls are trapped by their own lack of control, gambling away their last credits upon some foolish notion that they have an "unbeatable hand". A planet, or moon in this case, does not gain a population in its tens of billions because it is a generally accepted as 'hell' though, and many spacers, smugglers, illicit entrepreneurs, and criminals that come to Nar Shaddaa seeking wealth, power, or simply love find what they are searching for. These fortune-seekers that are successful are the minority but they are predominant in stature and when one hunts since the one who hunts eagle one ignores the sparrow.

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A dark-robed figure marches through one of the dark alleys that line the Smugglers' Moon on all its many levels. The man is tall but his step heavy and downtrodden, which would incline one to believe that he carries something that weighs him down. In the dark cantinas that he visits daily, he is known simply as the "wanderer". The only thing that people know of him is that he owns a small skiff and that he leaves the moon every once and so often and returns days, weeks, months, and sometimes even years later. As with all silent and obscure types, men grew to fear him.

The shadowy figure vanished through a nigh-invisible doorway..

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The dark cantina smelled of dust, alcohol, and a vast mixture of different species. The Twi'lek barkeeper looked up as 'wanderer' entered but did not spare him more than a couple seconds of attention before he turned to other guests and thirsty customers. He _did_ wait long enough to register the nod and proceeded to place a glass of Corellian whiskey before the tall dark-robed man. A credit chip mysteriously appeared in the barkeeper's hand, as it always did when he served the shadowy man.

The first time the dark man had entered his cantina demanding a whiskey, it had seemed hardly unusual. Corellian whiskey was a novelty and 7 credits a shot but it was not excessively unusual to have someone order it. But when the credit chip had suddenly appeared in his hand—that is when the barkeeper had been set on guard not to get on the bad side of this customer.

After the first twenty times at attempting a friendly conversation and being rewarded by one word answers that, although enunciated meticulously signifying a good education, reminded the barkeeper of grunts more than words, he gave up his attempts at being agreeable.

The mysterious man's name was one of the first things the barkeeper had asked.

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_He extended his hand and put on his best friendly smile. "My name is G'ron." He said as he placed the Corellian whiskey before his strange customer. "I don't believe that you ever told me your name, mate."_

_The term "mate" had been a souvenir from G'ron's time of service in the Republic Navy. The dark man raised his head at the greeting and rewarded G'ron's efforts with a devious smile that made the poor Twi'lek turn a sickly shade of green, reminiscent of a grass green shirt that had been worn four years to long. G'ron did get the chance to accurately study the man's face for the first time though. The black-robed man was pale complexioned and his eyes were a dark brown. His hair showed no sign of graying, but his facial skin seemed prematurely aged. G'ron was disconcerted by the two facts and did not know if he should put the man into the category of 'mid-forties' or 'early thirties' so he settled for a compromise and put his strange customer into the 'late thirties' category._

_The hooded man chuckled darkly and grasped the Twi'lek's hand. "You can call me Uliq." _

_The mixture of the name, that had not been uncommon in the Colonies but—due to recent events—had become infamous, and the man's grip that made poor G'ron fear for his hand did not appeal to him and he henceforth did not attempt further conversation._

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Uliq gulped his whiskey in a single draw and remained sitting there vaguely aware of aware of his surroundings. He knew that the people here feared him, thinking that he was some terrible killer who committed such atrocious acts that he only spoke when spoken too and only a few words at that. In short, someone who was ashamed of his past and with no hope for the future; and all those points could be likened unto him and his character. He wanted the past to leave him be and he wanted the future to come quickly, perhaps brining death. He had not committed suicide on the other hand because somewhere in his mind, where all his aspirations of glory, power, love and contentment had lain, a glimmer of hope remained that made him believe that there was still something to live for.

In the end though, he was nothing more than a shell of a broken spirit, a man who had lost everything and more. He was Uliq Qel-Droma fallen Jedi Knight, defeated Lord of the Sith, and exiled from the force. He had gone from hero to a villain, from villain to almost a deity—so great had been his power—from deity to less than a man. Above everything that he had ever believed being destroyed, he had also lost the force. He had been stripped from the force by his former lover, Nomi Sunrider.

_As they say, _he thought, _you don't know what ya had until ya lost it. _

Sometimes he wondered why he didn't just sign up with one of the crime syndicates. With his fighting prowess and piloting skills he could quickly climb rank and make a fortune… start a new life. Once in a while he would run an errand for some entrepreneur or crime boss to earn money of course and more often than not he was offered a job by his employer, but he always declined.

_Maybe I should start accepting. _He told himself, downing another shot of whiskey that the barkeeper gave him.

With a lightning quick motion he slipped a credit chip into the man's hand and left the cantina. As the cold night air hit him in the face, all effects or signs of intoxication vanished. With a steady step he marched towards his abode. He passed through dark alleys, occasionally pushed a pickpocket out of the way, and shook his head at some of the more insistent streetwalkers. As he rounded another corner and started walking down the wide residential-area lined street he carefully scanned his surroundings. The scar on his forehead, from which he had cut the Sith marking that had been there during his time as Sith Lord, was aching and wither it was superstition or truth, he saw that as foreboding.

Acting as if nothing was amiss, he continued his march towards the entrance of the apartment building in which his residence was located. When he heard the echo of a footstep just a fraction behind his own, a sure sign of someone trying to sneak up on him without Uliq noticing, he quickened his pace and with a fluid motion entered his apartment building. Uliq's adrenaline kicked in and he ran for the turbolift and pressed the 'up' button, hoping with all the hope that remained him that the lift was currently on his level.

When the door whooshed open almost immediately he thanked the gods, for his faith in the force was gone and he choose to put his faith in some created deities rather than an all encompassing energy field that no longer encompassed _him_. He immediately pressed the 'story 18' button but instead of taking the lift he turned and ran for the stairwell, his ears registering the sound of the lift leaving without him. Uliq hid in the shadows of the stair entryway. Not a moment to soon, either, for another moving shadow glided silently through the apartment building's lobby. It was a feminine body, as far as he could tell, enveloped in a brown robe, but the woman moved with the silent, fluid lethality of a seasoned warrior. Uliq's lightsaber dropped from his sleeve into his right hand but he did not ignite it yet. His life had taught him one thing above all, caution.

The woman activated the turbolift button and stood motionless, while Qel-Droma slowly inched his way up the first flight of stairs. When he reached the top which seemed like forever to him but about ten seconds in reality he sped up and stealthily, silently, raced up the dimly lit stairwell taking four steps at a time. After one minute he slowed down, and crept up the last series of stairs to level 18. He pressed his back to the wall on the left side of the stairwell's entryway and peered towards the turbolift display. He was pleasantly surprised to find the lift indicator stopped at level 17.

_Perhaps the force is with me again. _He though wryly as he raced for his apartment, opening it and hiding himself where the door would close in on him if someone entered, hiding him in its shadow. Moments later the door began to vibrate silently. Uliq was shocked at the motion but did not let it disconcert him. Suddenly the door swung in its hinges and he was sure to catch it by the handle bringing it to a halt and then pushing it closed making it seem like an automatic action. As the door was swinging closed he spotted the shadow moving through the room and stepped in behind it.

With a lightning quick movement he swung his left hand around his pursuer's chest, grasping her left shoulder and with his right hand he ignited his lightsaber and brought it to her neck. The woman gasped but did not cry out filling Uliq with a grudging sense of respect. When her hood fell from her head and he saw beautiful red hair cascading out some of it whispering across his face, he had a sense of déjà vu. The voice that suddenly resounded through the room, still young, clear, and with that touch of youthful naiveté and innocence shocked him even more.

"Is this a way to greet your guests?" the woman questioned ironically.

_A normal man would probably drop his lightsaber in surprise, _Uliq Qel-Droma mused. _But I am no ordinary man. _

"Nomi Sunrider," he hissed. "Why have you come?" he asked, grasping her shoulder harder. "Have you come to haunt me you Jedi witch? To blind me physically as well, perhaps?"

Nomi scoffed. "Where did you get such a foolish notion from?" she asked.

"Why do you follow me through the dark like an assassin?" he countered, still holding her tightly with his lightsaber inches from her throat.

"I wanted to see what you do with your life." Her voice assumed a sad tone. "And I saw that you waste your life in cantinas, drinking yourself into an early death." She said bitterly.

An overpowering rage filled him and with a swift motion he brought his hand to her chin and twisted her head towards his own, their gaze meeting. "How dare you! How dare you critic me on how to use the fraction of the existence that you left me with. Who do you think you are that you can comment on the twinge of life, relative to my former one, that you dared _not_ take from me because it would have made you a murderer you self-righteous fool?"

As he studied her face through the haze of rage that filled him he did not know whether he should kiss her or twist her neck further, breaking it.

Her voice was strained but not angry. "You are acting as though you did nothing. You killed millions, maybe billions. You deserved this and more. The Jedi order left you with a life that you could still use for good but where do I find you," a sob escaped her throat, but no more. "On a crime infested moon, wasting away your life."

He stroked his thumb across her lower lip, but his sensual action was countered by a cold laugh that escaped his throat. "Like so many Jedi, you hear but do not listen." His voice became quiet, cold, and calculating. "I have _no _life; I have _no _hope; I have _no _belief. I am dead in all but body, Nomi, and I would think you would know that." She wanted to reply but his voice, rising in volume cut her off. "You say I deserve worse, that loosing the force and having everything I ever believed in, good or bad, shattered. Without me, Exar Kun would still be at large and if he had been given time to study the stolen manuscripts of Ossus he might very well have become Emperor of the galaxy. Your judgments are short-sighted."

Nomi continued to gaze in his eyes and he saw them start to glaze over. "Why can't I feel you in the force?" she asked.

Uliq almost broke her neck at that but he controlled himself, realizing that if he failed she would see him as a threat and her considerable force powers would make short work of him. "You dare mock me?" he screamed.

She flinched, but Uliq's battle experience told him that she was not afraid and that her motion most likely resulted from his grip on her chin becoming tighter. "No I do not. I felt you in the force after Ossus but you are blind to me now. Like a void."

Uliq guffawed deviously. "Oh that! That is the result of me drawing into myself in a way that no one has done before." His eyes glimmered triumphantly. "You see Nomi, I have become blind to the force which means you cannot sense my thoughts or cannot be alerted to danger if I decide to kill you." Her gaze did not waver but he felt her tense. "And before I let you go," he said, accentuating the word 'go'. "I will have a very subtle type of revenge."

She looked at him and Uliq thought that he could see a flash of curiosity in her eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I could have killed you today, destroyed your soul as you destroyed mine but I did not. I did not use the temporary power I had over you. I did not attack you while you were in the weaker position. You blinded me to the force when I had no power left, while I lay grieving on the ground, in shock of my deeds. I did not kill you however, as you killed me and that makes me the _better_ person." He said, laughing madly.

He suddenly stopped and before she could stop him he crushed his lips against hers. He felt her responding for a second or two but then she jerked her head back and attempted to use the force to push him away. Nothing happened and she still remained in his grip. He had deactivated his lightsaber by this time but he still had the upper hand. She began to get worried that she would have to fight Uliq but his grip lightened and he turned her loose. He began to laugh insanely again and she backed away from him, at a loss of what to do.

Uliq stopped laughing suddenly and met her gaze. "Get out!" he hollered. When she did not move his voice became softer. "Please Nomi; leave before I do something I will regret."

She stepped closer, though, and he began to back up from her advance until he hit the wall. She brought her hand to his cheek. "I was wrong to come wasn't I? Will you be alright?" she asked, sadly.

He smiled coldly in reply to her kindness. "Ask your question and ask clearly, I do not mind."

She inhaled deeply. "Will you kill yourself?" she gasped.

He laughed in derision and malice. "No! Now leave."

He saw a blur of motion and then she was gone. _I have nothing left, _He mused._ Except the gratifying feeling of vengeance, _He thought, stepping onto his balcony and letting the cold, fresh air blow away his insanity. _I should never have revealed Exar Kun's base to them, _he told himself as he looked down the balcony. He almost believed that he saw a small red-gold speck but he shook his head. _If Kun was still here, he could have given me my force connection back, I am sure of it. But being united by hatred is a fragilely forged alliance, at best…_


End file.
